


Tower of Strength

by ChelleLeigh1917



Category: The White Queen (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-09
Updated: 2013-08-09
Packaged: 2017-12-22 21:04:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/918001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChelleLeigh1917/pseuds/ChelleLeigh1917
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Richard and Anne the night before Richard Grey and Anthony Woodville are executed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tower of Strength

Anne sighed softly, turning in the bed. She was half awake, half asleep, as she turned she'd expected to find Richard next to her. But his side of the bed was empty. Again. She knew he'd had so many sleepless nights since his brother had died. So much weighing on his mind, on his shoulders. To her, it seemed there was little she could do. Oh, she was there with him, she made sure of that. She honestly didn't want to leave him alone too much right now. She wanted him to know he had her support. 

The last few days had been the worst, since he'd made the decision to take the crown. She knew she'd urged him to it. But she also knew she'd done what she absolutely had to do. There was no doubt in her mind that if Edward's son had been crowned, it would have been Richard's death warrant. Oh, it likely would have been a few years, but it would have come. The boy was pure Woodville, raised by them, loyal to them. He would have never understood, and probably never forgiven either. No, Richard had to take the throne, and given the illegality of his brother's marriage to Elizabeth Woodville, Richard was the true heir at any rate. 

She slowly sat up, her eyes adjusting to the darkness of the room. Only the fire in the heart provided any light. She soon found Richard sitting next to the fire. On these nights she would always find him either there, or at the small altar praying. As she watched him, she noticed a paper in his hand, and that he seemed to be studying it. She watched, a few moments later, as he threw it into the fire. She was still watching as he finished the glass of wine he'd poured for himself, and got up to come back to bed. 

Usually, she would feign sleep when he came back. She knew he wasn't ready to talk about anything. But tonight as she watched the expression on his face, she sensed whatever decision he'd just made had not come easily to him at all. No, perhaps it would be best to at least try to get him to talk about it. As he got ino the bed, she reached out and placed her hand against his chest. 

"Anne?" He said softly, looking over at her, quite surprised when he realized she was awake. 

"You really think I have not realized you've been up every night the last few weeks?" She asked softly. 

"You've been feigning sleep when I come back to bed then?" He asked softly. He should have realized it. Anne was always very perceptive when it came to him. 

"Yes." She answered, no reason to try to hide it now. 

"Why did you say nothing?" He asked. She found no problem with expressing her thoughts and opinions during the day, especially lately. 

"I knew you weren't ready to talk." She murmured. 

"That hasn't seemed to stop you during the day." He said pointedly. He pulled her closer to him, which took the sting out of the words. 

She sighed very softly, laying her head on his shoulder, and wrapping her arm around his waist. "What has been keeping you up at night though has been the questions of honor, if you are doing the right thing. No matter how much I can tell you that I believe your actions are right and honorable, it's a conclusion you must come to on your own." 

"And I have." He said softly. Of course, he noticed that she immediately looked over at him quizzically. "And since I have, you are wondering what has kept me up tonight." 

"Yes." She nodded. 

"Richard Grey and Anthony Woodville." He said very softly. 

She closed her eyes for a moment. She'd noticed the slight catch in his voice at the end, and immediately understood. She tightened her arm around him. She wasn't surprised that Anthony's betrayal still bothered him. She knew it would for awhile. 

"They will have to be executed." He said softly. 

She was quiet, processing that. Of course, she knew it had to be done. But she also knew it brought no pleasure to him. She knew Richard Grey, cared little for him, but Anthony....no that was entirely different. 

"When?" She asked softly. 

"Tomorrow." He replied just as softly. 

She closed her eyes. One of the things that had surprised her upon their marriage had been the closeness between Richard and Anthony. In fact, Anthony had been one of the first to offer his congratulations to them. At the time, it had surprised her greatly. He was a Woodville, and given her dislike of Elizabeth, she had her father's aversion to the Woodvilles. Richard though, he confided in her about how he and Anthony had worked together while her father and George had rebelled, and that Anthony had gone into exile with them as well. So for Richard's sake, she'd given Anthony another chance, had come to think of him as more than Elizabeth's brother. But recent events had proven it was blood that mattered the most. 

"You will go?" She asked softly. 

"I will oversee it." 

She sat up, looking down at him. "I will go with you." She said softly. 

He shook his head immediately. "No. Absolutely not, executions are..."

"You forget." She said softly. "I've seen a battlefield."

He shook his head. "No, you at Tewkesbury still causes me nightmares." He'd never admitted that to her. 

She stared at him, a bit surprised. "The one you have every so often, that you'll never tell me about." She said softly. He always woke up in a cold sweat after it, and after he calmed down he would always hold her very tightly. She'd realized long ago the nightmare dealt with her, but had stopped pressing him about it. 

"Yes." He said tightly. 

She nodded. "When we came to London," She said softly. "Actually when I met you in the stable yard with my things, I told you that I was not going to let you go through this alone. That remains true. I am going with you." She said emphatically. 

Richard turned to his side, pulling Anne close against him. He buried his head against her neck as her arms wrapped tightly around him. "Short of ordering you cannot, I am not going to stop you, am I?" He asked. 

"No." She shook her head. Knowing that as his wife, if he did order her not to go, she was bound to obey him. 

He was silent, rolling onto his back and pulling her with him, so that she could lay her head on his shoulder. "Go back to sleep." He said softly. 

"And you?" She asked, wondering if he would manage to sleep further tonight, or even if he had at all. 

"Perhaps." He replied softly. 

The next morning Anne woke early and alone. She called her ladies, and was quickly dressed before going downstairs. Of course, she knew Richard may have gone ahead and left, he might have found that to be the easiest way of forbiding her to go with him. So she was a bit surprised to walk into the dining room and find him eating breakfast. She placed her cloak over one of the chairs, and then sat down in the chair next to him. He said nothing until she started to reach for the bread. "I would advise against eating. You may not be able to keep it down." He said softly, laying his hand over hers. 

She looked up at him, realizing he was not going to forbid her from going with him. 

He entwined their fingers. "For such a petite woman, you can be a tower of strength." He said softly. "Perhaps, I am being selfish, but I want you near."

"Then I will be." She said softly. 

Once they reached the Tower, Richard went in to speak with Anthony for a moment, while she waited for him on the rampart, where they would watch. She shivered a bit, pulling her cloak around her for a moment. As she watched Richard walk out of the Tower, his cloak billowing behind him, she could not help but realize this was a side of him she seldomly saw. No, this was not the Richard she normally knew, the man who laughed easily with her, the man who taught their son, and played with him with such patience, the man who was her lover in the middle of the night, no this was the battle commander. This was the man who had led his forces into Scotland, the man who had taken Edinburgh, and had issued orders it was not to be sacked. This was the man who knew he was King to be, and had no doubt in his destiny. And she...she was his Queen. She raised her head a bit, schooling her face to be as impassive as she could make it. When he reached her, Richard glanced at her for just a moment, and then nodded slightly. 

She watched impassively as Richard Grey was led to the block, from the corner of her eye, she could see Richard raise and lower his hand as a signal for the execution. She could not help but grimace as she watched. Then a few moments later, she watched as they led Anthony Woodville forward, he seemed to calmly lay his head on the block, and again Richard signaled. When it was over, she glanced up at him. He didn't turn to look at her, said nothing. After a moment, he held his hand out to her for them to leave. Only the slight tremor when their hands met betrayed his feelings. She squeezed his hand tightly for a moment, before allowing him to help her down the steps and to their still saddled horses.

**Author's Note:**

> The scene for me that proved the depth of Richard and Anne's partnership was her presence at the execution. For me that Richard let her be there says a lot about the state of their relationship, as did just about every scene they had throughout episode eight. 
> 
> I must be honest though and say I'm not entirely certain about how well this fic has worked, and I could not get the ending to work right. Anyway, hope you enjoy it!


End file.
